Just Go With It
by Me2468
Summary: Dean wants Lisa, but after a careless lie, he has managed to drag his colleague, Castiel, into it, which only results in Castiel's kids getting involved and, well, Dean's only scratched top of the mess he's managed to get himself in to. Based of the film Just Go With It. Destiel. AU. Possible Sabriel.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural of the film **_**Just Go with It.**_

**Just go with it. Prologue**

In 2004, Dean Winchester was a loser. Not in the conventional sense, that he was visually unappealing or had a particularly terrible profession, but in the car he drove. The model itself was a vintage make (a 1967 Chevy Impala), however 2004 Dean had no idea about cars and so her top speed was 25mph and the paint upon her body was some sort of horrible glittery hipster-ish colour. The rump had the words _Flower Power_ printed on the back. The entire vehicle shuddered when Dean attempted to turn the wheel.

Dean was a pretty cool and smooth twenty-four year old, but his car was an heir loom, and would let Dean down in terms of getting laid.

March the third 2004, was supposed to be a turning point for the Winchester. Today he was the luckiest man in earth. He was marrying Bela Talbot.

The soon to be Mrs W. had a traditional English accent and the prettiest damn legs anyone had ever laid eyes on, not to mention a great rack. Dean, of course, was not this shallow; Bela wasn't a too bad person. She smiled quite often, which made her look nice, and when she was yelling, she often had a very good point, so Dean didn't find her mean, or at least mean on purpose. He reckoned he ought to try and be a better husband than he had been boyfriend of fiancé.

For old times' sake, Dean and his best man drew up in the impala. Bela had made it quite clear that that would have to go. He would also have to quit his job as a mailman, and become an office worker.

He didn't mind his job though the pay was not up to scratch. On the other hand the hours were good. There were worse jobs out there; at least Dean wasn't shovelling horse shit.

This salary meant Dean was dressed in nice black jeans and a borrowed suit jacket for his wedding day. Gabriel straightened his emerald tie for him (green brings out his eyes).

St. Mary's was decked out in ivy, and Bela had had a hand in putting up glittering green and red fairy lights. By having a hand, I mean she yelled orders at wear to place them, while people stumbled haphazardly on step ladders. The two men had to agree the overall effect was marvellous. Bela was supposedly wearing something red, to complete the theme. Dean wondered why Bela hadn't chosen a misty grey colour to bring out her eyes, like she had done with Dean. Gabriel had told him she had chosen red to make the devil within her stand out.

All in all, it reminded Dean of Christmas, especially his brother over there lugging a large present in his gigantic hands. Following his was a pretty blonde girl, she touched the small of his back as though to steady the Sasquatch, but this would doubtfully make any difference. Dean felt the inane urge to yell at her to run anywhere in a five mile radius away from his brother, in case he toppled upon her timid frame.

Gabriel and Dean jogged up the steps, attempting to release themselves of the nervous buzz of energy. Neither of them could keep the smile off of their faces (although Gabriel's excitement was not to do with the wedding but that he had found a spare piece of candy in his pocket).

"This is it," Dean beamed at him, "No more wondering if I'll wake up and she's disappeared." He tilted his head up ti the heavens, "We are declaring our vowels, _tonight_!" He punched Gabe in the arm. "God I'm such a dork."

The best man tried to say something witty, but his teeth were glued together with the glorious toffee, and so he just have him a candy stained toothy grin, which Dean returned excitedly, until he said "Dude, you need to brush your teeth."

Ironically, Gabriel was a dentist, and so from his own jacket he produced a travel toothbrush and spearmint tooth paste. He made a face at the clean smell, before gesturing to the bathroom once inside the holy building.

Dean wondered around the corridor, it was far too early for the other guests who were not part of the ceremony to arrive. He could not spot his younger brother (one of the less important groomsmen) or the girl and guessed they were having kinky bathroom sex.

He noticed a large vase of red and dyed green roses. Not sure which one to pick, Dean closed his eyes and chose the one that first came to his hand. He shook off the water droplets and fastened the red flower into the top button hole.

From one of the side rooms, Dean could hear the unmistakable noise of high heels on linoleum flooring as well as the quite scuffling of floor length dresses. He considered making himself scarce, wanting Bela's walk down the aisle to show his reaction to having first seen her in the dress. All thoughts of running away were thrown out of the window, when he heard his name emanating from the inhabitants.

"Dean is sweet, isn't he?"

"Yes, precisely," came Bela's voice, "He's absolutely adorable…"

"But not someone you want to climb into bed with," finished some nasally chick. If Dean expected Bela to defend him, he was horribly wrong.

"Exactly, it's like fucking a puppy."

"Tell Marietta about Garth," screeched another feminine voice.

"Shh," Bela calmed them, "Very well. So about, I dunno, a season ago ["Nobody says _a season ago_," muttered someone near the exit. Dean guessed someone who was jealous of Bela's early wedding] this…"

"SEXY BEAST," squealed the same girl who had started the Garth conversation.

"Thank you, Jane," apparently Bela's voice never left that icy tone even when conversing with her bridesmaid on her wedding day. "This man ["Sexy beast," Jane whispered dramatically] approached me, and God is he different from Dean. I mean for one, he owns a Ferrari." A collection of _ohhs _ensued.

"So what did you do with Sexy hot rod?"

"Fucked him, of course." The jealous girl near the door muttered string of profanities Dean strained to hear, because everybody else, excluding Bela had burst into giggles. Dean felt sick to his stomach, but could not draw himself away, in case Bela could redeem herself.

"And after that?" someone pushed.

"That's the problem you see. I'm willing to push Dean off, if Garth will commit. For God's sake, I don't want to spend my life running around someone's back. Especially not Dean; he's a loser already and I would just feel shitty if he was pushed down further."

"Ok, yeah, but let's be realistic." Nasally girl was back, "How much further can Dean go? Have you _seen_ his _car_? I'll be the one to admit, that boy's not bad on the eyes, but if he has tastes like that, I'm surprised you didn't drop him like…"

"Like a freshly microwaved hot pocket, I know," Bela finished. "But Dean's the only willing participant, short of paying someone. Garth pushes me onto Dean, says he'll be good for me, instead of having to live a rough country life with him. I told him I didn't care so he…"

"Why do you have to marry someone, anyway?" the jealous one drawled. "Just drop the whole thing and join the singles."

Jane sighed as though the answer was obvious. "Come on, even you can't be that thick Pepper." There was a pregnant pause. Dean could practically hear Bela's warning stare. "Haven't you ever heard of the Talbot fortune? You're such a dolt, Pepper."

"What?"

Bela's annoyance radiated to Dean. "Look, my father won't hand over my share until I'm married. Setting feminism back like a billion years, I know. I deliberated over just bribing a man to marry me by splitting it, but here's Dean, free and ignorant. This may be the wrong time but I don't think off white is my colour."

"Ouch," said a voice behind Dean. Gabriel had returned, who knows how long ago. "I think we need to ditch the bitch."

Two hours later found Dean in a dingy bar, sitting on a barstool, mesmerising the noise made when he bounced the gold band ring off of his dirty whisky glass. Gabriel was busy, with a perky redhead Dean was fairly sure was gay. He hadn't mentioned it.

The wedding ring had _Bela and Dean forever in Latin _inscribed in Latin inside it (there had been a small misunderstanding at the jewellery). Bela and Dean forever, yeah right. More like Bela and Dean never.

From his place in the bar he could hear the sound of the heavy wooden doors swing open and the click clack of heels. He drunk more whisky. Dean also heard some lewd comments being made, presumably at the heels' owner. There was a time when Dean would stand up to men like that, but right now he was too pissed to care. What's more, the surrounding people already thought he was a loser, having seen his car slowly pull up. Dean was under no wish to draw attention to himself again.

The woman approached the bar, dropping her keys in the meantime. She pulled up a seat next to Dean.

"Excuse me, you've dropped your…"

The blonde turned to Dean in break neck speed, "If I could just get to the bar, without some vulgar comment about wanting to fuck me that would be fine." She huffed and attempted to call over the bartender, pointedly ignoring Dean. He held up his hands in protest, but was feeling to desolate to argue. Instead he simply bent down and picked up her keys.

Realising his intentions, she looked at his sheepishly before apologising. Dean waved her off, "We all feel shitty sometimes."

Her eyes raked over him, before settling on the wedding ring he was still toying with.

"I'll bet you didn't meet the girl who gave you that in a bar."

Dean smiled despite his situation. "I did actually, but it was a sushi bar, so…"

"We'll, I'm sure she's very lucky."

Before he could stop himself Dean had said "Try telling her that."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, I'm sorry, it's just, not a good marriage. I found her cheating." Dean properly turned to look at the woman, and was surprised to see she was very attractive. She couldn't know about the car then. Her eyes were full of comfort and Dean continued "It's just so hard on the children. All fourteen of them." He didn't know where the lie came from, but he was aware of the reaction he was getting from it. "I'm Dean by the way."

"Amelia." She smiled and rested her hand on Dean's upper arm.

Just at that moment Dean heard a slurred yell, "Hey pretty tits, you saw that lump outside. Yeah? That's car, owned by that dickhead you're talkin' to."

Dean blanched, sure Amelia would leave. Indeed, she did stand up, but she dragged Dean with her. "You deserve to have a woman treat you, the way you deserve to be treated."

And that was how Dean discovered the power of the wedding ring.

**A/N: What do you think? Worth continuing?**


	2. Today

**Chapter 1 - Today**

Today, Dean lives in the same town, the same street, wears the same cheap jackets and drives the same car. But now he is 2014 Dean and 2014 Dean is pretty far from a loser. Or at least that is how he prefers to classify himself.

His assistant, Castiel, sometimes like to remind him, that he is thirty four, unmarried, no children and has never had a relationship (excluding that disaster of Bela) lasting over a week.

Overall, Dean felt his life was good. Nine and a half years ago, he had lost his job at the post office for slagging off and had run into the arms of Bobby Singer for help. He had refused to take money outright and so became Bobby's apprentice; Bobby was a mechanic.

At the first chance, Dean had, for lack of a better word, pimped up his ride. The impala was given a black paint job, and the seats were replaced, for something less tartan. The pair managed to sort out her engine so the top speed quadrupled and the thing that had once been the height of Dean's embarrassment was now his closest friend.

God that sounded sad.

After a year, Dean opened up his own garage which was instantly flocked to. Bobby good at his career however he was also an unreliable drunk, and they were the only two mechanics in town. Plus Dean was_ hot_.

It didn't help that his fame spread to neighbouring towns, who also had crappy mechanics. Unfortunately, he put Bobby out of business, but out of the goodness of his heart, Dean employed the guy.

Still, even with Bobby's help, the pair couldn't keep up with the new interest, and so they looked into the possibilities of new workers.

Ellen joined up, and after a few years, her daughter Joanna. They were good workers, and people tended to trust women mechanics to give them good deals and not speak car jargon to overcharge them. This was all rather ironic, in Dean's opinion. Ellen was a motherly figure to everyone and always gave everyone a fair price, but Jo was a swindler if there ever was one. She enjoyed giving energetic descriptions of what was wrong with the client's vehicle, making a small half hour problem appear to be something similar to a nuclear reactor meltdown.

They had also hired Ash, in the hope he was more serious about the profession than his first interview had suggested. This had been disproved when he turned up half pissed on the first day. On the other hand he was a confident worker and managed to get along well with kids and some selective clients. Ash was master of scrabble, which infuriated Jo to no end. He was also the God of chess, but had kept that under the lid, for fear of Jo's jealousy.

Sam often helped out while at Stanford, but after getting a job with a big shot lawyer agency, had to decline his post in the garage. Dean had to admit he was pleased to see Sam leave. The boy was all limbs and no knowledge of cars. He was more trouble than he was worth, constantly poking Dean to help him. The only thing he was useful for was high shelves and filing.

Dean was left with the business side of things and step ladders, when Sam quit. He had to hand it to Sam, it was bloody hard to keep up with the paper work. This is where Castiel came in. Seven and a half years ago, he had hired Cas, who was a diligent worker. Dean reckoned Castiel was more of a theory worker, because he could keep up with the jargon but looked rather lost around a car. And he owned a Prius, a _Prius_.

And so no, Dean did not believe himself a loser, though he was still using the ring to get laid.

He didn't really think he needed the old keepsake to get women, but after years of using it, Dean couldn't imagine any other way.

Depending on the amount of alcohol he had consumed, his lies often became outrageously unrealistic:

"I keep telling my wife she should get some help about her cannibalistic urges but she just won't listen."

"My wife beat me so hard my kidney flew out of my mouth."

"A year ago today my wife committed suicide…she dressed in a shiny costume and let magpies peck her to death."

"I found her in bed with the entire cast of Les Miserables."

But they never failed to work, which in itself was a miracle.

"These aren't the bolts I ordered." Castiel's voice fills the front room as Dean enters.

Dean turns, as though to answer him, before realising the man wasn't directing his statement at him.

"Yes, yes, these are the bolts," a pudgy man stood on the opposite side of the desk, nodding earnestly.

"No, we wanted extra thick washers. These are flimsy," he turned to Dean for help.

"Yeah man," Dean complied, "Can we get our order and an extra hundred for the inconvenience, thank you." Dean slings an arm around the worker and leads him out the door. "See you tomorrow."

Dean turns back towards Castiel. The counter worker wears the same unattractive blue mechanical overalls like the rest of the team, despite barely going into the main garage. He looks tired and his black hair was messy, even more so than usual. The bags under his eyes makes the brilliant blue stand out.

"Rough night?"

Dean receives a yawn in response.

"What's up, Cas?" Dean hops onto the counter, careful to avoid the paperwork Castiel was writing on.

All of the employees had been here long enough to have a different relationship with one another. Dean regarded them as an extra family, even Ash. None talked with the formalities of co-workers, Jo, for one, was sure to slap his ass at every opportunity, (Dean was fairly sure this was to remind him of his _favourite _customer, Pamela). In fact, they were his closest friends, bar Gabriel.

"I received a letter." Dean's about to reply with a sarcastic remark when Castiel continues, "High school reunion, but I don't wish to attend."

"Why?" calls out Jo, whom neither had noticed.

"Well, when I left I'm afraid I made a large to do about how I was going to beat my ex in life, and unfortunately, I feel divorced single father accountant, doesn't quite count as successful."

"Everyone can sound bad when you say it like that, Cas," Dean says bracingly.

"Listen to this," Jo joins in with an evil smirk at Dean "Male, thirty four apparently, eternally single, no heirs and a career that make him smell like a raccoon's ball sack."

Dean scowls. "Blonde, no boobs, stuck in the closet, is familiar with woodland creature genitalia, hasn't changed since she was three."

A customer walks in and Jo follows him back out to the car, so Dean turns back to Castiel. "So what's this ex's name?" He ignored the small squirm he felt in his stomach.

"Crowley." Dean is pleased to see the scowl on his friend's face.

"That is the name of a dickhead," Castiel frowns at him and for a moment Dean worries he has offended Castiel, only to find Cas' kids standing behind him. "Shit, sorry."

Castiel was father to two children, as far as Dean knew. The eldest was a boy called Garth, yes Garth like the man Bela had cheated on him with, but Dean was fairly sure this was a different Garth. For a nine year old, he was quite suave and self-confident. He reminded Dean a lot of Ash, for some reason, he couldn't place his finger on. The kid appeared not to have noticed Dean's cuss, because he was buried nose deep in _Pride and Prejudice_.

The other child was Emma, who must be nearing, what seven? Yes, that sounded right. Either way she was the most gothic pre-preteen, Dean had ever come across. He could tell she was going to be a manipulative bitch when she grew up, but he had never said his suspicions aloud.

He throws a callous glance at her; the last time they met, she bit his leg.

Behind them he could see the baby sitter, Ruby, lounging around. He wondered what on earth possessed Castiel to hire her, even if she was cheap. Sam had put in a good word for her-they were friends from college- though Dean couldn't imagine anything positive concerning Ruby.

Castiel frowns disapprovingly over to Ruby who was laying on a couch, with her feet up. Emma runs over and jumps onto Ruby's stomach, who gives a great oomph.

"I'll be just a minute," mutters Castiel, not looking over his work, and gesturing with his pen that Dean should try to entertain the kids.

Dean sighs and eventually bends down to Garth's level. He decides to let Ruby deal with Emma. "Hey Garth."

Garth looks up from his book. "'S'up, Dean-o?"

He manages to keep in that feeling of desperation, that comes up only to often around Castiel's offspring.

"Interesting book you're reading there."

"How would you know? The longest book you've read was _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_," Garth says with a cheeky grin.

Dean forces out a laugh, and looks back at Castiel, willing him to work faster with his mind. "Finding it good?"

Garth considers him for a moment. "The writing style is strong but I find Mr. Darcy to be more annoying than romantic, though this could be a character flaw purposely put in there to show what Elizabeth will ignore for love. But as I say, Jane Austen is clearly an astute and confident author."

Dean nods and feels a slight tug on his shirt and was disappointed to see the smirk of Emma standing next to him. Still Dean was thirty four so he couldn't just tell a six year old girl to fuck off and had to take a nicer approach. "Hi, Emma."

Emma's smirk widened. "I wanna go to Disney World."

"_Emma_." Castiel's voice was warning her slightly, but Dean thought he sensed a hint of amusement.

"Daddy said you're rich and I wanna go to Disney World. Florida, we don't have to go international, I know you hate planes."

If he thought sighing would get Castiel to stop his daughter, Dean thought wrong. "I'm not rich."

This is a small lie. Dean is the best and favourite mechanic, and pocks a small fortune a year, however he doesn't consider himself to be 'rich' as such, after all his swimming pool is only a modest size.

Emma pouts at him and flings herself away to annoy Ruby.

"Done." Castiel flings his pen down. Dean feels as though a thousand suns have beamed down onto him.

"Great, see you tomorrow Cas. Or actually, are you free tonight?"

Cas smiles at him. "I could get Ruby to look after the kids," the bachelor grins at his friend, "but you're busy tonight Dean." Clearly, Dean has no idea what Cas is on about. "Dean, the thing at Balthazar Milton's house."

"Oh fuck, yeah, you're right."

Castiel gave him one last disparaging look before leaving work.


	3. Lisa

Chapter 3 - Lisa

Lisa Braeden is hot. It's the first thing Dean notices when he steps into Balthazar Milton's villa. Of course, he doesn't yet know her name, though he has no doubts that by the end of the night he will know her _very_ well.

She's barely of age and wearing relatively simple clothing, nothing too scant or tight. It's a vivid red dress, 60's style, with petticoats and tiny white polka dots, sleeveless. Red contrasts with her dark hair, chocolate eyes and tan skin.

She hasn't any heels on, in fact, she doesn't have any shoes on. Dean doesn't have a foot fetish but he happens to have a Lisa Braeden's feet fetish.

He overhears her tell someone she's a yoga instructor. Her hotness is multiplied by ten.

The Milton Manor hosts a party every once in a while (the owner's not good at time keeping, once or twice he has signed contracts with the wrong year, month and day, which was strange the last time it happened since it was his birthday). These are for the richest, or the most popular or the most exuberant people Balthazar Milton can find. Dean had the honour of being invited for the seventeenth time. He remembers the first time being a week after his wedding, and the story had been solemnly told to the public, as he held the microphone drunkenly and Gabriel made sound effects behind him. Gabriel was very good at high pitch giggling, though that may have been less to do with impersonating the bridesmaids and more to do with downing four bottles of expensive champagne in under two hours.

Fortunately, Balthazar had found them rather entertaining than embarrassing, but never invited Gabriel again because of the amount of damages he had caused and alcohol he'd consumed.

Dean pats down his pants, looking for the wedding ring.

"Hello." It's Lisa. "I'm trying to avoid the host." She blushes. "That sounds rude, I just mean I find him slightly sleazy, with all the girls on his arms and well, I don't want to be dragged into being. Especially not with his wife here."

Dean finds the wedding ring. "Yeah, well, I think they're getting a divorce anyway."

She looks at him dubiously. "Maybe I'm an old fashioned twenty one year old, but I think it should be final, before he starts dragging women around."

Dean puts the ring back into his pockets and smiles easily at Lisa, though really he is quite full of anticipation. The ring is his lucky charm. He keeps his hand inside his pockets, fingering the ring, just in case. "And men too, by the looks of it."

Balthazar has entered, one arm around a tall redhead woman and the other around what Dean could only assume was his pool-boy.

"And Old age pensioners," mutters his companion, as Milton ditches both of his partners to dip an ageing lady off her feet.

Balthazar suddenly twists his exposed neck and spies Lisa looking at him. Lisa uses her dainty mouth to say, "Oh _merde_."

And then in desperation, she grabs Dean's hand. _Surprisingly_, he doesn't protest.

"Good, you've made a new friend, Winchester." Balthazar's voice isn't taunting as one would suspect with such a comment, but rather mellow and pleasant. "I confess that I didn't think Lisa would tick all the boxes, you have complied for a friend."

It is very hard to be mad at Milton, when his tone is so jovial and he is holding hands with a pretty girl. _Lisa_, apparently. He mouths the name. _Lisa_, filled with sibilance and just so soft. A beautiful name, one to be earned by being a perfectly smooth as a circle.

Or an orange.

Balthazar moves on.

"Sorry," she mutters. Her hand becomes limp in his grasp, though she does not retract it. "I'm Lisa."

"Dean." He lets go of her hand to swap it over for the other one. They shake.

…

Dean wakes up next to Lisa, refreshed and rejuvenated. He looks over to her sleeping form, and goddamn she still looks beautiful despite that she's drooling slightly on his pillow.

This wasn't to be a new chapter in Dean's life; this was the start of Dean and Lisa's life. Well, if she'll keep him. He can't remember the last time he woke up and hadn't been thinking of ways to shove his lover out the door, or how to creep out of her apartment. No, he's wondering if she likes crème brȗlée because he's sure he saw some in the corner shop, and, wait, she's waking up.

Last night was (attempting to avoid chick flick moments) magical, in the most masculine way. Not just because of the sex (and that was fucking awesome. Dean must have been twenty five the last time he slept with a twenty one year old), but just Lisa.

They had clicked right away, despite the age difference. The only thing to show for that was Lisa's horrible taste in music. NSYNC. Meh.

Lisa is a full time Mom, in that she foster cares and is paid by the state. At the moment she is privileged enough to be looking after an eight year old boy - Ben. Dean's seen the pictures, and maybe he doesn't know much about kids, but he knows Ben is more promising than Garth.

He had managed to persuade her home about half an hour into the party, which he partly feels guilty about because this was her first Milton Bash and they hadn't even opened his 20m x 20m bouncy castle or had the yearly food fight (or chocolate fondue bath). They had stumbled into the apartment and Lisa had insisted on cooking something before her stomach ate itself. Dean can't remember if Lisa had spontaneously decided, or if Dean coerced her, into making an apple pie (he can remember and he's said some things he's not proud of). Half a bottle of vodka had been downed by the pair before it had cooked, which had led to drunken apple pie eating, and afterwards drunken apple pie sex. Dean remembers saying "This is amaze-balls," far too frequently in conversation.

"Morning," she yawns sexily.

And Dean's heart thuds, because for the first time in forever, he can't wait to do it all over again.

"Morning," he replies. He thinks he should have a hangover. Dean doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth, though.

"Shit, I have to go," Lisa whimpers into her pillow, only half dragging herself up to look at the time. "Can we do this again?"

"Are you busy today?" Dean barely cares if he's coming off a bit clingy.

Lisa rolls on top of him, separated by the thin sheet layer. "Completely tied up. It's Ben's last weekend, so, I can't be lying on a strange man," she says playfully, teasing hi with her finger, "A strange man who I'm fairly sure must have drugged me at some point and has a house like _bachelors'R'us_."

"Bachelors'R'us?" He is trying to catch their lips together.

"No feminine touch," she mutters about his ear, before emitting a long suffering groan and rolling off of him. Dean watches her fiddle about in her underwear tying to relocate her clothes, and grins when she puts on his jeans instead of hers. "Do these look right?"

"You'd look sexy in anything."

Lisa laughs at this, or Dean thinks, she emits a soft angelic sound that could be likened to a giggle. She thrusts her thumbs into the pockets and thrusts her hips forward, to the amusement of herself. "Where are mine?"

"The kitchen?"

"Um, no, because I was wearing a dress, not jeans. I feel pretty fucking stupid now." As she grins, her thumb grazes the top of a smooth metal in the shallow pockets of Dean's jeans. Curiosity takes over and she digs her left hand in to pull it out. Dean doesn't notice at first, too busy pulling on his boxers. The wedding ring hits the side of his head, just before Lisa screams expletives and storms into the adjoining sitting room.

"I just _can't_ believe YOU. I thought maybe you liked me just for my boobs, but I didn't think you just wanted a break from fucking your WIFE. Where is she, by the way? Because what STUPID son of a bitch leaves the wedding ring I his pocket, if he was trying to get laid. I _told_ you about my parents, and how they were playing around behind each other's backs. I TOLD YOU how difficult that was for me, and you continue to do it. Where's my fucking dress, Dean?"

Dean had followed her into the living room and is currently standing open mouthed, completely insure of what to say. Surely the truth can't be worse than this?

"Lisa, look-"

"WHERE'S MY MOTHER FUCKING DRESS?"

"I'M NOT MARRIED. Please, there's been a misunderstanding, just let me explain it to you."

Lisa must have seen the look of desperation of his face, for she does not reply, though she does still fume.

"Thank you." And now he had to say something, anything. At all. Come on Dean. The hangover was starting to kick in and so instead of saying something reasonable like _I was at a bachelor party before I went to the wedding and I'm looking after the ring _or the old fashioned _I found it on the floor, _Dean says, "I am not married. There are no contracts of any kind, tying me to a person. Yes, I was in a relationship, but we are parting now."

"Bullshit! You have a wedding ring, Dean."

"Let me finish, it will all make sense when I've explained it," Dean has no fucking clue what to say now. Lisa nods at him, as if to say _go on_. He withers down onto the couch, to look more believable. "Lisa I'm Bisexual." Well, that was true for the least part. "And you said this apartment as no feminine touches…" Lisa takes a moment to recuperate from the information

"That doesn't make it any better Dean, cheating on your husband."

"He isn't my husband, and as I say we are separating anyway. He was one of those hippy types, didn't wanna go through the legalities of it. We've been falling apart for months, maybe it was me, being to attentive to work. It was him though, and his drug addiction and indie music. Worse music taste than you. I've been wearing the ring, up until yesterday when he packed and left. You're not a rebound though, as I say, I haven't loved him for six months plus and haven't slept together in longer. In the last part he found another guy, and that's all going great. But yeah," he finishes pathetically.

"Dean," Lisa's voice was soft and gentle and Dean wasn't sure how she bought that bag of shit, but again didn't question it. "I know that was a hard story to tell, but I'm going to have to hear it from him as well."

"What?"

"I'm sure you are telling the truth, so can I please hear it again."

"Umm, I'm not sure that's advisable, with all the drugs he's taking. He'd probably just, I dunno, fall over, yeah."

"_Dean_."

"Can he do it over the phone?" This clearly does not warrant an answer. "Email? His schedule is pretty tight with all the orgies. Plus, I'm pretty certain he's going to Scandinavia tomorrow." Dean's aware he's said "pretty" twice (he can't help that Lis makes him think of it).

"Then we'll just wait 'till he gets back, or cut the whole thing off. I refuse to be the other woman in a relationship, or the only woman, I suppose. What's his name?"

In his head the only male name coming to mind is _Dean _and then soon after _Jesus_, neither of which are entirely suitable. What he needs is a hippy name, something one might associate with being high.

"Castiel." In some ways he isn't the least bit surprised; the guy often has his head in the clouds and isn't exactly '_Down to earth'_.

Lisa mouths the name. "Right, well, I'll see Castiel A.S.A.P, and then we can continue this. I promise." And to prove this, she drags Dean's lips into a long, albeit chaste, kiss.

She forgets to close the door behind her.


	4. Castiel

**Chapter 4 – Castiel**

The thing was, Dean reminds himself, he doesn't actually need Castiel to play Castiel. Dean has plenty of friends who could play his ex-civil partner, or whatever. Like Gabriel. Or maybe not Gabriel, come to think of it. That wouldn't end well. Or Ash, but Ash had stupid hair, and Dean wants Lisa to think he had a hot first husband. That also counts out Bobby and his Dad. Then there is Sammy, but Sammy doesn't know about his wedding ring technique with women (not that his Dad or Bobby does either).

So all in all Castiel has to agree, or he'll have to hire a male escort.

Shit.

Dean walks into work, with Cas on his heels, clipboard in hand, reading off something about shipments to somewhere. Cas has realised Dean's not paying attention, and keeps throwing out synonyms for 'penis' during his speech, in order to grab Dean's attention.

"If a _member_ of _staff_ agreed to this horrible imported _wood_, they'd be a _dick_."

Dean doesn't register. He walks into the garage, wondering how to ask Castiel to be his fake ex, when he lays eyes on the biggest pile of junk that could be classified as a car he's ever seen (even worse than the impala before she was fixed up). He almost goes and hugs the car, saying he will personally keep her away from the big bad owner.

Castiel stops talking to him, to also stare at the car. He doesn't view it in the same air as Dean, instead looking it up and down practically, rather than developing an emotional attachment. He flips some pages over on the clipboard to find the customer agreement section and wonders over to a good looking man, he supposes is the possessor of the car.

"Hello, can we get your signature here, here and here, thank you." Dean dimly register's Castiel's voice talking to the customer as her runs his fingers over the bonnet. He flips it open, and is greeted by a billowing cloud of smoke. Ash and Jo run over to help tend to the mess, leaving their crossword puzzle and motorbike job, respectively. This will take about _forever_ to deal with. It isn't so much as identifying what's wrong with the car, but what's right with it. It's a good thing Dean's the best damn mechanic. Behind him, he can hear the soft mutter of voices, and thinks he ought to turn around and explain to the guy it'd be much easier and cheaper to simply buy a new car. The man is probably grilling Cas about the car, who of course would know jack shit, but would still find it impolite to not attempt at an answer. It doesn't sound angry though, no it was more closely related to laughing.

Dean turns round to find the guy practically feeling up Cas, laughing with his hand on Cas' arm to keep himself upright. Castiel looks happy too, but Dean suspects this is out of some desire to keep the client pleased. He coughs.

"Well, you have four busted tyres-"

But neither of them are listening to Dean, so he walks a little closer, wiping oil onto his overalls, and practically placing himself between the two men. "Look, I'm going to level with you. This shit's gonna cost more than it's worth. But if you're intent on keeping it, it's gonna be here for almost a month."

The guy nods, "That will be fine." And he turns back to Castiel. He wasn't being rude, as such, but Dean still feels quite affronted.

"Has he filled up all the forms?" Dean asks Castiel, knowing they already had because it literally takes half a minute and they had been standing here for a good five.

"No, actually. Steven, if you'll just sign here-" _Steven _bends over the clipboard and Dean mouths 'Steven?' over the top of him to Cas, who simply shrugs with a small smile. Dean returns to the car wreck. He grabs his spanner to start spannering, when the voices start up again. Leaning in further in the hood of the car, Dean just ends up tapping the metal instrument against some dishevelled wires, completely distracted by the thought of_ Steven_. The guy just wouldn't leave Castiel alone.

"Cas, can you come over here a second?"

"I am not good with cars Dean," Castiel replies dryly.

"What's wrong?" asks Jo, as she sidles up to him.

"I'm leaving," yells Ash, somewhere in the distance.

"So this one time in Costa Rica-" starts up _Steven_.

"For _fuck's_ sake, just get your ass over here, Novak."

Cas dawdles over to him. "What is it, Dean?"

Dean leans in, and throws a look over his shoulder at the douchebag, before whispering, "Is that guy bothering you?"

Castiel quirks his head to the side. "No, not particularly, though I am not partial to his moustache, which is slightly bothering."

"Are you sure? I can chase dicks like that away. We don't need any clients."

"No, Dean. I can handle myself. Do not worry yourself over me."

"I wasn't worried… per say. More bothered, I s'pose."

Castiel just nods at him, and makes to move away, however Dean grabs his arm, suddenly annoyed by the snarky expression on Steven's face. "That's not all I wanted to ask you."

"Ok Dean."

He has to stare at Cas for a good while, before he remembers what he wants to say. Just at that moment, there's a small bleep.

"Sorry, that's my pager," says Steven. He looks at Cas. "I'll call you." Cas and Steven share a smile, before Steven the big bag of dicks, exits the garage.

"A _pager_?" says Dean, incredulously.

"He's a doctor." Castiel sounds knowledgeable.

"He? We using cute nicknames now?" Castiel clearly does not understand Dean's joke, as he furrows his eyebrows. "Right, well, I have something to ask you, but first I have to tell you a little background." Dean shares the story of Lisa, his stomach feeling uncomfortably butterfly-y, and this morning. Castiel already knows about his previous disgusting way of getting women into bed.

"So this means…" but Cas had clearly not understood what Dean was asking from him.

Dean grunts, not wanting to say his request out loud unless absolutely possible. "Come on Cas, I'm asking you to divorce me."

He has to refuse, he must refuse; there is not one single person on earth who would ever help Dean become Lisa's permanent fuck-buddy because –

"What would it entail?" Dean almost kissed him.

"Oh nothing. You just give us your blessing and be on your way."

"I can do that."

"Great," Dean sighs in relief, "But you'll have to buy some new clothes."

Castiel looks slightly affronted. Sure his work overalls made him look scruffy and untidy, but Castiel's overall style wasn't like that (it was)."Excuse me, but my clothes are perfectly adequate. Find another Castiel if you so wish."

"Cas, I don't want Lisa to think I was with a man, for like, ten years. A man who can't remember to tie his shoe laces." Cas had he horrible habit of forgetting to do the simple task. "Just get some new clothes, Ok? In fact I probably should go with you. No offence, but your style is kind of you know, desperate single gay father. We'll get you a halfway decent suit, no shopping at Oxfam, or other crappy charity stores."

"Oxfam helps the children."

"Yeah well Gucci and Armani keeps sweat-shops in action, which is shitty on the surface, but at least they gotta job, and I mean, if we don't buy enough from 'em, how the hell are they ever going to improve the working conditions, eh?"

"I'm not complaining about my pay check Dean, but I can hardly afford 'Gucci'; Emma's birthday is on the Saturday, and Garth's on the Sunday, now I think about it."

"_Fine_. I'll buy you some clothes."

Castiel gave him a rare smile, one that reached his bright eyes. "Yes ok then. But it isn't charity. You're buying me suits for Emma's birthday. Is tomorrow good for you?"

"No, Cas, weren't you listening? We have to meet up with Lisa tomorrow, before you go to Switzerland."

"Well, I'll just have to cancel on Ash then, give me a minute."

"Wait, what, Ash? What are you doing with him?"

The one out of the two of them that is not Dean, gets his phone out and muses, "Nothing really, he was taking me out for dinner."

Dean feels pretty disgusted. Ash and Castiel? Castiel and Ash? It is like mixing a shark's tooth with a kangaroo's testicle. "_Ash_? He has a _mullet_." He shakes his head at Ash's hair style. "And what about Steven. Aren't you too, I don't know, a something?"

Castiel burrows his brow and says "Hmm," in reply, before continuing "Are you giving me a lesson on monogamy, Dean?"

"Shut up," he replies.

…

The next day, Dean is picking his napkin in anticipation. Lisa graciously agreed to meet him here, and was currently holding his hand, which was nice of her, because Dean was sweating like a pig.

"Sorry, I just get nervous around him."

Lisa looks as radiant as ever, though Dean hasn't actually met her very much. She is wearing a tight fitting floral summer dress, which fans out at the waist. She has to lean over the round table to get to his hand, and gets a good look at her breasts, now. They had arranged to meet at a large expensive restaurant, called something in French, just so Dean could show off his wealth. He had planned to pay for Lisa, who he assumed was the type of girl to eat salad on a first date to not appear fat (not that Dean minded what she ate), but Castiel now had to be paid for. It certainly wasn't as luxurious as that fucking suit, Dean had lavished out on for Castiel, and he was fairly certain that Cas could probably stretch his budget to pay for a meal, even if he did have two kids and a baby sitter, who needed to be fed just as often, it appeared. Dean has a niggling feeling, Castiel is going to choose the most costly item on the menu, and then waste most of it, purely to piss him off. If it went too badly, he would flee and leave Cas with the bill. He smirks, and Lisa looks at him confusedly, until she guesses he is smirking at her boobs.

She hastens to pull the top up slightly. God, Lisa looks hot. Dean isn't the type of person to ask about makeup and that shit, however Lisa's face looks naked, and naturally beautiful. In reality, she is wearing natural makeup, but that is the type of thing not often noticed by men.

"I'm nervous, too," she confesses, the top of her cheeks blushing slightly, highlighting her pretty eyes. Dean isn't close enough to see the individual colors that make up the brown, and is desperate to do that someday. Lisa giggles anxiously, and licks her smooth plump lips, softly, and quickly, a sure sign of her apprehension, something completely different to Dean's own.

"Don't be, he can't compare to you." Mother fucking damn, Dean is smooth, and he knows it as Lisa's head dips down to hide her growing flush. Adorable. In order to diffuse the tension, Dean manages to draw one of Lisa's feet out from underneath her chair and engage in a playful foot fight. It stays like this for a while, because, although Lisa is clearly the weaker contestant, in terms of ankle strength, she is sporting killer heels, which Dean considers cheating or there about. Where the fuck is Castiel? He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. Dean begins to lose, as his mind strays to his 'Ex-Husband'.

Lisa keeps tapping him on the shoulder, every time a new person appears on the top of the marble staircase, their table is at the bottom of, asking "Is that him?"

He's getting pretty tired of it to be honest, and texts Cas when Lisa goes to the bathroom. He isn't deigned with a reply. When Lisa returns, Dean has to shake off the attractive waiter that had practically been stalking her from the bathroom. The waiter tells him he should 'get someone his own age', which is completely unprovoked by Dean, though he did call him a 'dicking dick' before any other words were exchanged.

"Is that him?"

Deans turns. "Lisa, that guy is like seventy."

"Yeah, well, maybe if you gave me a better profile, I'd know him when I see him."

How to describe Castiel? "Hmm, I dunno, kinda scrawny, mop of hair, black hair. Big weird ass eyes. Looks permanently awkwar-"

"Like that guy!" She points, not caring that this restaurant is like the Queen of England classy.

He turns with little hope, to see a Cas resembling figure, but in a much hotter definition, walking down the steps. Dean turns back to Lisa, before saying, "Yeah, like that, but way less attractive."

Lisa drops it but glances back up. "Are you sure Dean, 'cause he's looking right at us."

"I think I'd know the guy I've been with for like, whatever." Trying to divert attention back to the menus, doesn't stop Lisa's gaze at the not-Cas, and so he gives up and looks around to please her.

The figure is closer now, approaching the last ten steps of the great marble structure. Now, it's clear the man is indeed Cas, and Dean knows why he didn't recognise him in the first place. Fuck Dean sideways; Castiel is secretly as hot as balls. The work overalls, and loose fitting 'Dad' clothes do not do this body justice. Sure, Dean hadn't thought Castiel as ugly troll, from the neck down, nevertheless, suddenly Cas has made number two on_ men Dean Winchester would like to fuck, purely for their bodies, if he was gay_, which does involve some tight competition, and Castiel is certainly the most realistic on the chart which is purely A list celebrities. Dean blushes at the thought.

Castiel is not wearing Gucci or Armani. Instead, he sports another obscure brand which had been a bitch to pay for. He has rolled up the sleeves of a clean light blue button down, to the elbows, showing off thick forearms. The buttons are done up to the top, as far as Dean can see, and his thin silk tie was lose about his neck, and just to the left, and the light colour of the shirt brings out his bright eyes. Castiel wears a dark waistcoat that only owns two buttons, right in the middle of the fabric. Dean is sure they must have bought a size to small in the trousers, for were they supposed to cling to his legs like that?

Castiel has left his hair to mess up, or perhaps he has done something to it and Dean is not too bothered by hair, in general, to notice. He seems to have just swallowed an ice cube, for his face is unnaturally pale, and lips large red and endearing.

A few people turn to look at him, and Castiel plays his part of an overconfident drug addict well, waving and smiling (acting is not his strong suit and it had taken hours for Dean to teach him this simple trick). He still isn't perfect in his step. Dean can see he was enjoying the attention, but was extremely unused to it, for he keeps glancing around and the jaunty walk has a few anxious steps.

Dean hears Lisa mumble "_Holy Mother Fucking Shit_," and, privately, he agrees.

_**A/N I'm English, so don't be afraid to comment on any incorrect Americanisms. Plus I'm horrible at present tense, but all my mistakes are my own. :)**_


	5. Dinner

T/W Mentions of drugs

Chapter 5 – Dinner.

Castiel saunters up to them. Lisa rushes forward to greet him, her summer dress swishing behind her.

"You must be Castiel," she holds out her hand. Dean's almost surprised she doesn't curtsey before him, such is the look of reverence that graced her face.

Instead of taking her hand in the conventional sense, Cas grabs hers and spins Lisa around, so that her dress is barely covering her dignity, but for the life of her, she barely looks ashamed that she practically waved her panties in front of a million dollar men. Instead, Lisa laughs, and hopefully from dizziness, rather than attraction, falls into Cas' arms. He gently tips her upright and bends down to kiss her hand, while Lisa blushes furiously.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," she giggles.

And then Castiel turns his sights on Dean. He goes weak in the knees. Lisa's got her hand on Cas' bicep, but Dean can't bring himself to care. Somehow, he has to pull off to Lisa, that he has seen this guy naked, spread out before him, and has been fucking him (besides other things), for the last –what did he say?- ten years of his life. Dean almost giggles at the thought. If he had giggled, it would have had been down to far too much champagne.

fuck.

Cas lavishes Dean with two kisses on either cheek, before scooping him into a quick embrace. He mutters "Hey, Dean," into his left ear.

They all sit.

"So, I hear you've been fucking Dean," begins Cas, smiling unashamedly.

Lisa stammers out. "umm, I'm absolutely, _terribly_ sorry about that, oh my God, I had no idea, about anything abou- no, concerning Dean. I swear I had no idea about you and about the ring, or about anything else, and oh my God, I feel so embarrassed-" She fiddles with her hair, which was arranged perfectly when she set off an hour ago and now resembled an organised bird's nest.

She calms when Castiel places a hand on her forearm, quietly shushing her, which makes Dean roll his eyes.

"Lisa, it's fine, I promise. We both have a problem with monogamy, even before we started falling apart. Probably the reason we stayed together so long is that we were both getting a little extra on the side."

Dean forces out a laugh, he has a feeling Castiel is just trying to piss him off, or get Lisa to dump him or whatever. "I think you mean Cas, that you were getting some… more, you know, of the sex, or whatever. I'll remind you, I remained pretty damn faithful."

"Ha," says Cas, "Let me remind you of 2009."

There's a moment of silence, before Dan realises he should say "Don't you bring up 2009, that was your own fault."

"What happened in 2009?" Lisa joins in, wide eyed.

"I found him-" begins Cas.

"Inside a charity event," adds in Dean.

"Fucking someone in the closet," Cas continues.

"For the children," finishes Dean. "To get that guy to donate, some of his millions, to the poor African children." Cas shoots Dean a look that clearly says _what a pile of shit_; Lisa doesn't eat it up, instead she looks marginally conflicted in terms of emotions. "Besides, Cas- Castiel, what happened in 2006?"

"What do you mean 2006?"

Dean gives a convincing scoff. "What do I mean 2006? What do **you** mean, what do I mean in 2006? Don't pretend I didn't find you in bed with three half naked women."

Lisa's watching the argument like one would a tennis game. Back and forth, back and forth. The other man draws himself up to his full sitting down height and prepares to give the biggest lie of his whole goddamn existence, and it's a fucking good one. "How dare you bring up 2006?! You know for a fact that I'm completely gay, not bi or pan, or whatever. You had just quit your job, because you said (and I quote) 'I could get much better pay than this. Employers should be crawling at my feet'. This being _after_ I broke my ankle, oh, and my thigh bone, in a work accident, that_ I_ was being sued for. Then you couldn't find any work and I had to find a way of paying our rent, without begging on the street, and was forced into sleeping with the three landlords to do so." Cas has to force down a grin at this beautiful lie he has come up with off the top of his head. A small smirk manages to send its way to Dean, however.

For his part, Dean looks like a fish out of water. How the fuck could he turn this around; Cas had closed every loop hole. Lisa stares at his disappointed, and strokes Cas' arm soothingly. "Castiel, you never told me that. How could I have known? I suppose it is my own fault for not being more attentive, because that was just after my brother,*sniff* had been hit by a truck."

Rejoice!

"I've already forgiven you Dean, I think we, well you, should stop bringing it up." Cas turns his attention to Lisa. "What have you ordered, beautiful?"

Lisa gives off a tinkering laugh. "Nothing, we've been waiting for you."

"Waiter," calls Cas, flamboyantly, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, and spinning his hand around. The attendant comes over, sashaying his hips. It's the same one that tried to ask out Lisa, and Dean's ruffled to see, the same predatory look grace over the waiter's face when he sees Castiel. And he said Dean should find someone his own age. Cas is a _father_ (not that he particularly looks like one tonight). He's pretty fuckable, by all accounts.

"What can I get you?"

"Your number," growls Cas. "Wait, just kidding." The guy laughs. "No I'm not, changed my mind. There I am, kidding again. Unless you don't want me to be. Ha! Joking."

The waiter is quite put off now. Dean smirks at his shoes.

"Listen quickly," Cas says. "I want four of your finest burgers [He leans over and pats Lisa's arm saying "No rabbit food for you, my dear"], and three glasses of the most expensive wine you have. Hell, we'll have the whole bottle. Put it on the Winchester tab. Thank you." As the waiter leaves, Cas gives him a short slap on the butt. "AND I WANT THAT PHONE NUMBER TOO… KIDDING."

"Four burgers?" says Lisa.

"I have a dog," Cas explains, glancing at Dean, who, in turn, is glowering at him. _Four_. FOUR! Cas couldn't have just pissed him off with ordering the three of them the most expensive item on the menu, he had the nerve to add an extra one to the list. $399 per burger! "So, how was he?"

"How was what?" asks the other two at almost the same time, Lisa coming in slightly later.

"I wasn't talking to you, Dean. How was Dean?" Castiel has to elaborate. "In bed."

They blush.

"F-Fine," stammers Lisa. _Fine? _Dean's had it from references he's fucking fantastic.

Castiel raises his eyebrows slightly. "Not suffering from ED anymore, Dean?"

Lisa: "ED?"

" I forgot you're fifteen. Erectile Dysfunction, my dear." Dean mentally shook Cas to death. "Don't worry, it happens to men, when they get to Dean's age."

Dean's age? _**Dean's age?**_ Castiel is older than Dean, by like, at least a year, or maybe two. And for fuck's sake Dean's only thirty-four.

"I think you're thinking about yourself," Dean says, but Castiel must have had selective hearing, for he ignored the statement.

The burgers were placed in front of them, before the waiter practically ran off, not wishing to be confronted by Castiel again.

"Sure you should be drinking wine, with all the pills in your system, Castiel?" Dean's going to get back at him.

"All the pills? The only thing I've had today is marijuana, which isn't exactly a pill, Dean. I know too well not to mix drugs. Not to mix drugs with other drugs, I mean to say. After all, I 've already downed a bottle of vodka." To be honest, Dean wouldn't be surprised if that turned out to be true. The guy can hold his liquor surprisingly well, and he's acting a little tipsy. An amount to kill a man, is typically what it takes for Cas to act a bit abnormal.

"You know what it was like to live with him Lisa?" Dean tries to drag her back into the conversation, as he takes a large bite from his burger, dripping sauce onto his pants, earning a glare from the patrons on the other tables. He ignores them, after all he's forking out how much, for this?

Lisa looks between the two of them. "No?"

"Well, we weren't getting burgers for dinner, I can tell ya. I'd come home and be all like, 'what's for dinner?' And he'd say, 'We've got the red pill or the green pill or some lovely yellow bombers I just took out of the oven.'"

Lisa smiles politely. Cas' smile looks destructive.

"I had to do something, Lisa. It was terribly dull, being alone, because even when Dean was home, he was on the toilet with his irritable bowel syndrome."

"I have another illness, do I?" mutters Dean.

Lisa's arm is grabbed by Cas as he drags her closer. He speaks in a mock whisper. "Fifth anniversary. I'm waiting for Dean, right? All I can hear from the bathroom is what I can describe as the soundtrack to _Les Miserables _translated into flatulence. Which emitted a terrible smell similar to-"

But at this moment Dean attempts to kick Castiel, and ends up kicking Lisa instead.

"Ow!" She rounds on Dean. "Did you just kick me?"

"No! Cas, did you just kick her?"

He does a funny sort of half nod and says "I have leg spasms. There they go again." He kicks Dean purely for the sake of it.

"A side-effect of the pill popping, no doubt." Dean polishes off his meal and stares at the other two plates. Cas has given his burger a good attempt with a knife and fork, and has managed a good three fifths of it. On the other hand, Lisa had dissected her burger. She has eaten all the salad-y parts that ruin a good burger, and the bread. Only a small part of the beef is missing. They both look finished.

Castiel stands up and offers Lisa his hand. "Care to dance?"

Lisa says "Sure," while Dean replies, "You can't dance!"

It seems that Dean's prophecy on Cas' dancing is proved true, but he gives it a good go. There aren't many other couples on the dance floor, which is good, for they are quite exuberant. He spins her around. Faster. Faster. Faster. Lisa's laugh carries to him, at least five tables away from the front of the dance floor and she collapses back into Cas' arms. Lisa laughs a lot, Dean decides. Cas rarely laughs, he realises. The hall is far too extravagant, with pastel gold indentations peppered on the walls. It is not square or rectangular but rather an octagonal pyramid, the eight walls leaning into each other, co-dependently. About halfway, the wall becomes glass, the only part of the restaurant that is outside, the rest is underground. The staircase leads to an outside exit. Perfectly in the middle of the pyramid is the dance floor. Tables circle it.

It is now night. They can see the stars.

Cas grabs Lisa, wrapping an arm around her, before he spins her out. The summer dress fans out, and he has to let go. She spins solitarily. Lisa never stops laughing. Cas catches Dean's eye. Dean gives no recognition when Castiel gives him a smile and curtseys, tugging on his waistcoat as a make shift skirt. God, he must be drunk. Lisa's twirling gathers in momentum, and so doesn't notice Cas leaving and jogging up to Dean, regardless of the staring.

"What the fuck, man?" Dean says, lazily. "I thought you were this little ball of anxiety when it came to this kind of shit."

Castiel collapses. "I'm not anxious, as such. I'm awkward, which is completely different, Dean. Different personalities, are easier to encompass in my life." There is a small buzzing and it takes a moment for Dean to realise Cas is humming. It's kind of throaty, and slightly scratchy, but it's old and traditional. Dean listens. Silence. "Aren't you going to dance with Lisa?"

"Oh, right yeah, I thought you just… wanted to chat," however he's mumbling the last few words, and ambling towards the centre, so it is doubtful he's heard.

Lisa had stopped spinning a while ago, and has since managed to pick up a suitor. Currently, they are waltzing. Dean has to interrupt them to steal her away. Dean can't dance, so he simply drags Lisa, flush against his body. Prom night dancing, really. Slow dancing, actually. He's never felt the need for proper lessons, for what can get better than this? Other routines are fast paced, and keep trying to put distance between the bodies. No words, pure passion (purely stupid). This is much better. He can feel Lisa's smile in the crook of his neck. There are small blows of air pulsing alongside his neck that might be forming words, or simply be her hitched breath; he can't tell. It is a form of moving without going anywhere, and this with her warm body gives him a sense of solidness, and dependability. It is far too early to say he loves Lisa. Dean loves the idea of her, the idea of being tied down for the first time in his life (well to not a bitch). He definitely wants her, and that's alright for now.

When they walk out, Cas is careful to leave the two lovebirds alone, walking just in front of them. This doesn't help very much, because within a minute of giving up his jacket, Dean notices her staring at Castiel's pert ass. He elbows Lisa.

"What," she whispers. "You were staring too."

They approach Cas' car, thankfully not the Prius, but a BMW Dean hired out for him.

"It was great meeting you Castiel."

"You too, Lisa. Even though it did not work out between me and Dean, here-"

"Not even slightly," adds in Dean.

"I still kind of want him to be happy. And a little bit desperate without me, just enough to have found you. But still happy."

"Maybe we could do this again sometime, if it's not to awkward, I mean," Lisa laughs (a-fucking-gain).

"Yeah, may- hold that thought." Cas' phone rings.

"Probably his drug dealer," Dean adds in.

"-Ruby, just put her on the phone, and for God's sake why did you let her near the flipping bleach anyway? Emma, Emma, you there? You cannot," Cas is completely unaware of Dean's small violent hand signals, and the confused emotions Lisa's face. Right now he has to prevent a murder. "Use your brother as a subject in your- WELL I SAY SO! I don't care if he was cool with it. If I put something on a high shelf, I put it there so you couldn't reach it." Dean had pretty much given up with Castiel now, and was solely avoiding looking at Lisa. "I don't care if- No, listen, and put Garth on the phone. Garth? Now, Emma. Garth? _Do not drink that smoothie_. It is **not** blueberry. NO! You shouldn't listen to Ruby either, just hide in the closet with _The Great Gatsby_, until I get home, m'kay? Bye."

Cas turns to them, exasperated. Dean can visually see the look of realisation fall over him, over a matter of seconds.

"You have kids?" Lisa looks at the two of them, standing back, so she can see them as a couple.

"We may have a tiny bit of off-spring, yeah," Dean tries to pass off.

"When were you planning on telling me this, Dean?"

"I better dash," adds in Cas. "Gotta prevent some homicide." He scarpers off pretty quickly, in his flash car.

There's a pause. Lisa fumes silently, and Dean counts down from ten before saying, "How are you feeling about this Lisa?"

"I should be so mad at you. You've lied to me since day one, about your whole marriage, or maybe just avoided it, I dunno. But the fact is, I love kids. I'm a foster mother, and giving Ben back was the hardest damn thing to do. All I can feel is excitement. It's just weird." Dean could pretty much kiss her feet, right about now. He just couldn't understand how she could be so cool about this. "But you gotta promise me something. No lying to your kids about us. I want it all out in the open. I don't want to be anyone's dirty little secret."

"That's perfectly fine, Lisa."

"So what are they called? When can I… meet 'em?" She's full on beaming now, teeth and everything.

"If you were eavesdropping close enough, you would know their names are Garth and Emma. They're all going to Scandinavia, tomorrow, for, uhh, Castiel's boyfriend's family reunion thing, but I'll sort something out, afterwards, yeah, definitely." Dean hopes there's such a thing as a ten year family reunion.

_**A/N I'm English, so I apologise for any incorrect Americanisms. =)**_


	6. The Kids

Chapter 6 –The Kids.

"I think I'm going to scream."

Dean doesn't have a response to that. He has managed to coerce Castiel's kids, and Ruby, the baby-sitter, into _Pizza Hut _to discuss Lisa. Well, Ruby is supposed to be supervising, when in fact, Dean is fairly sure she had found a drug dealer across the street, and is having an 'innocent chat'.

Garth, for his part, looks as stressed as Dean feels, concerning Emma. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and counts down from ten, which is an odd look for a nine year old. Dean lets out an exasperated sigh. The boy has probably learnt it off of Cas.

"Emma," he says, "Dean here has…"

"KIDNAPPED US!" A statement slightly too loud in _Pizza Hut_. Dean managed to chuckle it off.

"Emma, Emma, _Emma_," Exhales Garth, sounding so pretentious Dean wants to slap him across the face with a piece of the stuffed crust, double pepperoni, barbecue base pizza (with extra anchovies and olives per Garth's request). "Dean looks bad, stealing us from our minder, unawares, before tempting us with delicious food, but I can assure you his intentions are all for the best, right Dean?"

Dean shifts slightly in his seat. "Yeah, yeah, that sounds about right."

Garth gives them both a sympathetic look, before sliding his napkin over to Dean. It reads:

_Do ya want me to go to bathroom, to give ya some quality alone time?_

Dean curses Garth and his suave ways. He hits the younger boy atop the head with the napkin in question.

"Listen you guys." Dean leans in all dramatic. In all honesty, he likes kids in general. He thinks himself quite easy to get along with, and kids normally warm up to him. Dean enjoys the fun part of parenting: the always siding with the kids part, and in return receiving undying admiration and respect; the making them laugh part, and have them jump up and down when they realise he's arrived; the being called weird-ass nicknames, and hearing long winded stories and jokes about poop.

It's Cas' kids he can't stand. Perhaps it's because they see each other too often, and they've crossed the border between fun uncle Dean, and uncle Dean who is always yelling at them because they're playing around with electrical equipment. Maybe it's to do with Dean not being able to side with them, when Cas always makes such an excellent argument. Or it could be down to the children being annoying little shits.

He has all respect for single parents (especially Castiel). Sure he does want kids, at some point in the future, but he also wants to be able to relieve the stress with sex. How the fuck Cas copes, he does not know.

"I need you guys to do something for me."

Emma closes her mouth from the scream she was planning on letting forth. "I'm listening."

"Alright, real simple, and tons of fun, right? You are going to pretend to be my kids."

It's pretty unfortunate Cas is a dude, for he could have said he was their long lost father and have them actually play the art of his kids, but ah well, curse Castiel's genitals.

Emma surveys him, and Dean unconsciously draws in all his limbs to his body. A smaller target means less chance of being bitten. "What do I get out of it?"

Crap, the part he was dreading the most. He had hoped Garth's weird mature thing would come into play now, and tell Emma to _shut the fuck up_ and that it was impolite to ask things from adults. Instead he leans into Dean and says, "Is this to do with that Lizzie, girl?"

He scrunches up his face. "Lizzie? No Garth, it's complicated.[DEAN THINKING] You gotta be my kids for….[DEAN THINKING INCREASES] my movie audition."

"LIAR," screams Emma. Someone tells Dean to _"Control your child,"_ and he generally gets many haughty stares from the many customers of _Pizza Hut_. Garth pats his sister on the head, though, Dean notices, it's more like softly rapping against her skull, because he's keeping his fingers tightly into his fist; _smart move_.

Emma calms herself, and gives him the six and 11/12th's version of the evil eye. "There is a girl called Lisa involved. Don't you deny it, mister! Dad tells us everything. Dean-who-needs-a-pretend-wedding-ring-to-get-laid."

What the fuck had Castiel been telling his kids? It didn't register in him that she had said "Laid" nonchalantly, for he was fuming slightly at this shitty nick-name.

Her brother felt the need to explain. "We hear Dad talking about you to our uncle. He just calls you Dean-who-needs-the-fake-wedding-ring-to-get-the-special-cuddle around us."

How many people did Cas feel the need to tell? His kids were one thing, for they were pretty unlikely to start telling his dates, but his brother? Really?

"Or," joins in Emma, heartlessly, "Dean-with-the-bimbo-girlfriend."

"Hey, Lisa is _not_ a bimbo."

"Oh yeah Dean?" says Garth. "Well it doesn't exactly take doctorates to foster kids for a living."

"Give her a break; it's not easy looking after twats like you two." Before they could argue, Dean decides to press on. "Yes, I need the pair of you to be my fake kids for Lisa's sake, happy?"

Emma looks him up and down. She bites her lip, and swings her dark fringe in front of one eye. "I'll be happy if you take me to Disney land."

He screws up his face. "What?! No, Emma. I'll haggle, but let's start off with uhh, _Barbie's Dream House_."

"Disney Land or the deal is off." And with that she curtley tucks in her napkin around her lap, and stares unblinkingly and stoically into Dean's disbelieving face.

Garth chortles. "She's got ya there Deano."

The comment goes pointedly ignored. "I'll throw in five Barbie dolls. And a Ken, if you take it now." Dean holds out his hand across the table. It would just be cheaper and a lot more reliable to hire child actors.

She merely holds his gaze, not dissimilar to the way the mafia would. "I want a tarantula and a year's supply of tarantula food and a tarantula cage, not a small one, I need one that Garth could fit inside, and tarantula toys. I don't need a stupid _Barbie Dream House _but some industrial strength dolls would be nice, 'cause they've gotta last my tests."

Dean considers her, and her now outstretched palm. "A tarantula of a size I can choose, three months' supply of food, a regular sized container, and one toy. And two _Cindy_ dolls."

"Done."

Her small palm squishes against his. Dean turns to Garth. "And what do you want?"

"Oh man, really?" Dean wants to say, _"No, you can do it for the experience_," but Garth's little face of pure excitement, suddenly starts spurting: "I want to go to camp, but Dad can't afford it."

"Ok, I think I can do that. Only for a couple of weeks, mind."

Garth grinned. "You're so cool." And if Dean didn't hate the guy, therefore feeling Garth's opinions invalid, he would have felt fuzzy inside.

…

"Dean, you cannot involve my children."

The pair of them have oil in their hair, though Castiel is a lot more inconspicuous, with black hair. Dean, on the other hand resembles a paintbrush. How Cas got it, remains a mystery, because he has been in the lobby all day, working on files. A conundrum not to you dear readers, for the truth is, Jo decided to rub her oil rag into his head.

Dean, of course, has been underneath cars for the majority of the day, attempting to put off the inevitable conversation. He must have received the oil from frolicking around (he didn't; it was Jo again).

"Cas, they're completely up for it. Practically hugged me for the chance at a new exciting opportunity."

Castiel seems dubious. "Sit down, Mr Harrington." This comment would be odd directed at Dean, and in fact it was directed at the client at hand, Mr Harrington.

Yes, Dean had chickened out telling Cas privately, and had spoken the news where he knew he was in no physical danger.

"Can you fill out these forms, please? Thank you." Cas thrust the clipboard upon the harried man. Harried not because of the situation, but rather that Mr Harrington was the type of person who was always harried. "You're being irresponsible and you know it."

Mr H looks up, startled as ever.

"I am not referring to you. Dean, you have known this girl for a week at most, and have already created a menagerie of undesirable things for a relationship. You have had your fun. Now move on."

Dean stares at Cas. Yes, it's official; those overalls do nothing for what's underneath. He should take them off A.S.A.P. The Winchester shoves his hands further into his pockets, so he can pinch himself surreptitiously. Fucking thoughts, they're getting pretty perverted. Soon he'll be wanting to see the crevice of Ash's arse, which is something he has been trying to forget for about five years. A pretty drunken night, which somehow ended in Dean licking tequila out of it. "It's really your fault for picking up your cell-phone…"

"Dean, get your own kids."

Mr Harrington is attempting to wave the clipboard to say he is done, while not interrupting. Castiel snatches it away. "Thank you," he says, slightly waspishly. He stalks off, to organise it, or some shit.

"Don't mind him," says Dean, observing Cas' departure. "What's the problem?"

He twitches, maybe thinking Cas is planning on sneaking up behind him, and telling him that _if he were a cookie, he'd be a fucker butter. _"It just makes this noise…when the engine's, on, see. I think it's nothing, but my wife…"he trails off, but Dean's way past listening.

He climbs into the car, and turns the ignition. Sure enough, a strange sound is emitted. A sort of high pitched tinny squeak. Years of listening to Metallica in only one earphone, means he is hyper aware of the direction of sound. Probably the back, or the underside.

"Sounds like an elephant." Castiel re-enters, which is uncommon for him. And he is completely wrong, another rarity. Has Cas ever heard a fucking elephant? Maybe if the grey beast had a cowbell up its asshole, and a drumstick held by its tail.

Mr H looks understandably more worried. It is proved superfluous, as Cas chooses Dean as his target, and henceforth, walks over to the open window of the Ford Anglia. He bends to Dean's level, who is experimenting with the noise, switching the engine on and off again, great professional he is. Dean breathes deep into the overpowering smell of oil, and perhaps sweat (and is that marijuana, he can smell in the car?). There's something else, he can't quite catch.

Castiel opens the hood, because he knows Dean hates it when people get in the way, especially him, who can barely tell the right indicator from the left. He strokes his chin, as though he understands everything to do with this vehicle, though to be honest, it could just as well be a map of the female reproductive organs, for all he comprehends. Normally, this would piss Dean off considerably, and he would honk the horn and threaten to run him over, but today Dean says "Are you wearing after shave?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "What of it? You bought it with the other 'lie' clothes, I might as well make use of it. Unless you want it back, of course."

Fuck that response Cas. "No, that's fine, but, you know, it's work, and it wasn't exactly a two dollar bottle from Walmart."

Cas brings himself below the hood, where he out of Dean's line of sight. He simply says "Hmm."

Dean fiddles with the wheel a bit. Really, he should be working on the car, however, Mr H is a pushover and isn't complaining. Plus it's a _Ford Anglia_! Harry Potter alert. He takes a moment to put the pieces together. "Cas, have you got a date tonight?" Dean speaks with some trepidation.

There's a dull thud, as Cas collides his skull with the hood, not out of eagerness to face Dean. More to do with the fact he had forgotten cars had metal hoods.

"I have a lunch with Ash."

Not this fucking thing. "_Again_?"

The hood closes. "If you quite remember Dean, I had to cancel last time, because of your incessant need to lie to your girlfriend."

"How long have you had this car, Mr Harrington?" Dean calls out, before pondering Castiel's previous statement. Well, yes the obvious thing would have been for Ash to reschedule with Cas, though Dean had been secretly hoping that Ash would have thought it too much hassle, and left Cas be. "What about Steve?"

Castiel stops drumming his fingers, and observes him placidly [Mr H yells "33 years," after not being heard the first five times.] "Are you enquiring about Steven?"

"Yeah, he been in touch?"

"Yes."

But honest to God, Dean can only focus on one suitor for now. "But really, Ash?"

"But really, bribing my children?"

"Oh, come off it Cas," Dean slides out of the car. "It's one afternoon, It's one fucking afternoon, and they're receiving birthday present like shit. And, Mr Harrington, pick this up on Thursday."

"Dean, that is beside the point. You are intent on dragging my children into your web of lies. It's perverted what you're willing to do to get laid. I'm not just referring to this Lisa business, either, though this does take the proverbial cookie."

"You know what, Cas, I get it. I do. But Emma gave me this greatest, most angelic smile, when I told her about this," biggest piece of shit Dean's ever come out of him, and that includes that time in Puerto Rico. "And, I just couldn't bare to let her down now."

Castiel narrows his eyes.

"Caaaaaas. It's one afternoon, and that's it, I swear on my father's testicles. Don't for this for me. Do it for the children."

The other man rolls his eyes, and walks off to the lobby, but Dean can't supress the notion that Castiel has agreed.


	7. Plucky Pennywhistle's

Chapter 7 – _Plucky Pennywhistle's_

Dean tries to put the big meet up off, he really does. He thinks that the 'Swedish family reunion', or whatever, could last for a month, if he plays his cards right. However, Lisa is also putting off sex until she met his kids, so now the month reunion, is looking more like a three hour get together.

He organises to go to _Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie_ because it means he might be able to shove the kids off into the play area, rather than make stilted conversation and it limits the amount they can embarrass him. It's all settled for the following Saturday. Dean is continuously running over what the kids are allowed, and not allowed to say. Apart from having a hot first husband, Dean wants to prove to Lisa he is the most favourable father in existence. Which is hard, considering he has no kids.

The call comes on Friday, just after a nine hour shift. Not a phone call, but a shout from down the street.

"_Dean._" He stills, with vague formations of murderers in his mind, but _he knows that voice anywhere_.

"Sammy!" And Dean is rewarded with a bear hug from his 'little' brother. "What the hell you doing here?"

"Road trip with Jess."

Not that Dean isn't thrilled to see his brother here, but there is definitely something off about his answer. "Road trip? Sammy, you're a lawyer. I didn't know you could just, I dunno, pack up and leave."

"That's it. I quit," Sam grins.

"You quit? The fuck, Sammy?" It isn't rage boiling in his chest, something more like disappointment mixed with flatulence (down to last night's enchiladas).

Sam's smile falters. "I don't expect you to understand, Dean. I couldn't stand working for that corporate firm. I wanna help the world somehow, not sue competing companies for using a similar slogan or some shit. And you know," He runs his fingers through his mane, "I'm going to propose to Jessica, while being the best I can be."

All in all, Dean has never heard a bigger pile of shit stolen from a crappy rom-com. "Look, you've always been a bit older than people, mentally, and more responsible, so I should have realised your menopausal period [Sam furrows his eyebrows] would have come earlier than most. And now you're thinking, I gotta do the right thing; I gotta do the right thing, when really, the right thing would be getting the best job you can so you're not being supported by your girlfriend's income. And you can build a nice home for all future Baby Sams and Jessicas."

"Dean, I won't be supported by Jess's income. I have plenty in the bank."

"Yeah, well you wait. They aren't exactly handing out jobs in the middle of the recession. Just remember Jess can do whatever the fuck she wants with what she earns."

"That's not a problem, because she quit her job too."

The eldest Winchester has the strongest unquenchable thirst to slap some sense into his brother. Or punch. Or kick in the balls. Sam continues talking:

"Jess and I were always talking about going on a road trip, leaving it all behind. So I've got one more day here, before we head to Atlanta, and Jess is finding some old high school friends, so I want to spend my day with you."

Dean sucks his top lip through his teeth. "Tomorrow? I'm busy." Like really busy, Sam. Get with the fucking times, Moose.

"Busy? Cancel your booty call or whatever. This is the last time I'll be a 'free man'," Sam implores.

And simply because he wants to terrorise Sam at _Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie, _Dean agrees.

.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It took the entire night to try and recount his life story to Sam without coming off as a creepy ass weirdo, which he still slightly did. He tried to show himself in the best light, the one Dean sees himself in. His low self-esteem, coupled with his incompetence, fear and confusion, leaving him where he is today. Sam gave him a bitch-face.

It wasn't like Dean could keep it a secret forever. One day Lisa may have wanted to be introduced to Dean's family, who'd have to know about the whole _Dean married Cas_, thing. Oh shit. This sounds a lot bigger when said like that. Maybe he would tell Lisa his family were fatally killed. By assassins. No, too obvious. A succession of house-fires. Too unlikely. A wedding. His wedding with Lisa. He'd burn the venue to the ground and tell her his family perished. Yes, that seems suitable.

But now, he is facing a slightly peeved and repulsed Sam, a Gucci wearing Castiel, ("For a children's play area,_ really?";"_You bought it for me Dean."), and two hyper active kids in the car park. Lisa is nowhere to be seen. Assumedly she is already inside.

"This won't work, Dean." Oh for fuck's sake Sammy. Your negativity is **not** needed.

"Go big or go home," Dean replies, fixing Garth's clothes, so that he looks remotely normal, and not like a cross between a soccer mom and a Russian spy.

Sam snorts in disgust. Castiel, on the other hand says "Quite," as he cuts a sticky substance out of his daughter's hair. Apparently he is unfazed, having been a parent for a while now.

"You on my side, Cas?" Dean inquires, interestedly.

"Well, we've all been dragged into it now. There's little to no point in failing." He's finished with the scissors and has produced a hairbrush from the unfathomable depths of his pockets, only well-rehearsed mothers and fathers have.

Dean slaps him heartily on the back. "See, Sam, this is the kind of support I need."

The bitch-face makes its reappearance.

"I think I'm done." Cas leans back on his heel, to admire his handy work. Emma's hair in somewhat uneven, but owing to that she doesn't give a fuck about her appearance, and he can now blame Dean as the 'other parent', he allows her to run off in the direction of the large building.

"Me too. Looking good, Garth." Dean punches Garth on the shoulder, in what is meant as a friendly gesture, with that extra little oomph. Garth almost face plants. "Sorry dude."

Dean has always had the impression Garth thinks him to be simple minded, because Garth always forgives him with an air of superiority. "It's ok, you great Neanderthal, you." Garth squeezes Dean's cheeks, before turning away. "Dad, can I bring my poncho?"

"NO," says Dean before Castiel could intrude.

He goes ignored. Cas wordlessly passes over the scratchy fabric, facing Dean's glare head on. He can only imagine how they'll look walking in. A tiny uneven bob of terror in the lead, followed by three adult men. One looking as if he had stepped out from the latest fashion magazine, another covered in greased up clothes, and a third, a sulky gigantatron. And then the smallest addition to a Peruvian Folk band.

As they enter, he hears Sam take a deep breath, to steal himself. To ignore the nerves, the moose drags Castiel into mundane conversation, concerning parenthood and college, neither of which interests Dean very much.

He walks ahead, almost colliding with the multitude of kids scarpering every which way. Garth doesn't follow his sister into the red and blue themed squashy play area, opting to loyally stick by Dean.

"Right," Garth started up, as Dean searched around for his love interest. "We are running on improve here. That means no rehearsals, no messing around, and no getting anything wrong. The one thing I've learnt, is that you can't back track, so if _anyone_ says _anything_, just go with it."

"Thanks Garth," Dean and Cas say in synchronisation, albeit Castiel more sincerely.

They press on. It's a hard task to look for Lisa. Because it's the middle of summer vacation, all the cheap parents have stuffed their troublesome kids into the large play area of sweat and disease. Every now and then, a shriek echoes around the vicinity, and several harassed looking mothers peer and yell for their own kids, the result being a cacophony of noise. Although most kids have escaped into the depths of the climbing apparatus, their still appear to be an endless stream of people in their way. It doesn't help that Sam is grasping on to the back of his leather jacket for safety from the painted-faced-fiends.

Lisa finds him looking lost and waves him over, daintily at first, and then with an increased aggression when Dean doesn't notice. Castiel has to nudge his shoulder.

The group make their way over steadily. Emma is nowhere to be seen, and Garth runs ahead, so now they look like the three stooges.

"Lisa, darling." Cas rushes ahead, annoyingly, and embraces Dean's girlfriend. Sam purses his lips at the whole charade. "Radiant as ever, I see."

And indeed this was true, for Lisa wears tightfitting jeans, and a floral silky top, completed with slightly wavy hair. She smiles at him, and then Dean. It falters slightly on Sam.

"Err, Lisa, can I introduce you to my brother, Samantha."

Lisa's smile easily comes back into place, after realising this obnoxiously tall man is not Dean's son. She reaches out to shake his hand, the force of which almost shakes her entire body.

"It's just Sam, actually."

"Right, ok…Sam."

Garth chooses this time to produce a rose from underneath his poncho, and offer it to her, bowing courteously. At this, Dean rolls his eyes.

"Aww, thank you. Are you Garth?" She is doing that terrible things adults do to children where hey exaggerate every emotion, and speak to the kid as if they were intellectually stunted. Dean can literally observe Garth's face, wanting to polite, like an adult, but also wishing to tell her to stuff it because he had an IQ higher than this bimbo could ever hope to achieve. And then a new thought washed over Garth.

"You are very, _very_ welcome. And to answer your question I am Garth, yes. And you are Lisa, correct?"

"_Very_ smart, Garth." And the pair proceed to out smile one another.

"You're fugly." Emma has returned, which is unfortunate. "No offence." She climbs up her father, like a flea infested monkey.

"Emma," Castiel childes, jiggling her a bit with the arm supporting her.

"Well," she says, digging her face into Cas' neck, feigning embarrassment or nerves. "Daddy, this daddy," she nudges Cas with the crown of her head. "Has the hottest boyfriend. He could like wink, and, if he was interested, have all the girls in the room." To emphasise this point she tipped her entire body back, with her arms outstretched, almost overbalancing a surprised Cas. "And Papa, that one," she jerks her thumb at Dean, "Put his net in the water and got a teen with like some false boobies and stick legs."

Lisa is extremely lost as if she had walked through the cupboard to Narnia; Dean is fuming like a freshly boiled tea pot; Sam has a bitch-face like Sam always does and Cas is softly laughing into his daughter's hair. Garth looks outright outrageous.

"Apologise, Emma," starts up Garth. "I express regret on my sister's behalf, Lisa. Let us not use this instance to tarnish further interactions with you."

Lisa regains herself quickly, despite the young boy's weirdness. "That's all alright. When _my_ parents divorced, _I_ remember saying some quite _rude_ things to my parents' new partners. It's nice to meet you too, Emma." She waves slightly too close to the girls face, ending up with a small bite on her index finger. Fortunately, it goes unnoticed by anyone else, though Dean is suspicious of Emma's mischievous expression.

"Can I speak to you two for a minute?" Dean poses, looking in-between his 'kids'.

Emma frowns, but hops off, Castiel, anyway. Garth swaggers off with them.

"What is fffffff…ishes name, is your plan? If either of you two, and Emma, I'm talking to you, insult Lisa again, there'll be no rewards or that shhhhhi…ps. I'm supposed to be the nice father. Your dad, is the bad Dad, he's a druggie, who leaves you on the side of the road with a crap babysitter, to die, Ok? It's me you like. Can we please pretend that, just for now? Lisa's a good person, just try and talk to he like you would any other grown up."

"Dean, I will try my best to keep Emma in line," Garth says solemnly, one hand over his heart.

"Right, and you," Dean replies to him. "Should stop acting like a little freak. Group hug."

They march back over. Emma hugs Lisa around the middle, instantly.

"I'm so sorry. It's not your fault that I'm upset."

"Aww, sweetie, it's ok. Why are you upset?" She bends down to Emma's level, returning the embrace.

Emma sniffs into her shoulder. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Sweetheart," Lisa prises Emma off her to look her in the eye. "I want you to be able to tell me anything."

Her long suffering sigh is audible. "Papa broke his promise to me."

"What?" says Lisa concernedly.

"What?" a pissy Dean exclaims.

"I mean, I understand why he did it, but I still feel really, really sad."

"What promise?" Lisa looks between Dean and Emma.

"Yeah, what promise?"

"Papa promised he would take me to _Disney-Land _Florida, but he had to cancel it." And here, she gives a large and dramatic sniff, throwing herself deeper into Lisa's arms. "Because he met you."

Lisa peers over the girl's head, and gives a look that clearly says, _not cool Dean_. The Winchester in question, forces his brain into cooling the sudden spurt of anger, and making it into something useful.

"No, no, Emma. You don't understand. Papa meant we'd have to go earlier. Yeah, to spend time as a family."

Castiel raises his eyebrows, and so does Sam. Garth gives his characteristic big grin, while his sister smirks at him. But it's Lisa's delighted expression, that catches his eye, and he knows he's made the right choice, despite how his wallet may complain.


End file.
